Discovery
by mooncrowfairy
Summary: Ruthie turns 21 and receives a disturbing letter in the mail that will turn her life upside down. Who is Naomi, and why does she claim to be Ruthie’s longlost mother? Drama ensues as Ruthie questions everything she was raised to believe in…
1. Chapter 1

College graduation is supposed to be a joyous occasion, right? You've worked four or more years, studying day and night, to make your way out to the world and make a life. You've probably found someone you love and want to marry in future, and he's with your large family, cheering and yelling and being just a little embarrassing as you cross the stage to get that diploma. If you have four brothers, they will be doing their best to out whistle and cheer everyone else with your dad. If you have two sisters, they're crying with your proud mother. And from the crowd of graduates, there is your beloved, waving his cap and grinning widely. At least one person has a camera and is taking far too many pictures.

All you need is the family dog barking to complete the chaos.

I crossed that stage, grinning and waving to my loved ones, not knowing that in three days, my whole life would change. And it will only take one, small, letter to do it.

My family has gone through a lot over the years. Dad says it's because we have a lot of growing to do. He was a minister once, and still has a deep relationship with Jesus that makes me marvel. We've gone through death, drugs, identity crises, failed relationships, crime, changes in career, you name it. We've had foster siblings come and go as my parents realized their true calling was in taking in unwanted children and giving them the foundation of a loving home. As we older children grew up, we moved to close by houses and apartments, not wanting to lose the family ties as we've seen other families go through. Only I was the adventurous one, going to California for my degrees in journalism and literature.

And now I was packing to go home, to see the family house, to see what foster siblings I had now, to see how the new puppies were growing, to see my family.

"Ruth! Mail!" cried out one of my dorm mates.

"Once and for all, I don't believe I will win the Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstakes!" I joked, even as I popped out of my nearly empty dorm room.

Spiky-pink-haired Ivy laughed, handing over three envelopes. "Sorry, but I'm the contender now. And, no, I won't spend any on you. You're leaving."

"Of course I am! I'm done here. Go spend it on Cindy."

"Look how radical she's become. I still remember when you waved a Bible at the mere mention of Cindy, and now…" She came forth, and we hugged tightly. "I will miss you, Ruth. Now don't forget to write me, or I will have to invade Happy Appleville or wherever it is your folks live, and bring the Dykes on Bikes with me."

The mere idea had me giggling. "The town would never be the same. I promise to write, Ivy. Life will be too boring without you." I made a swoon, playing Rebecca at her hammish actress best, then swept into my room with my mail.

Two of them were credit card offers; those I ripped up and chucked in the trash can.

The third, however, was a pink envelope with unusual handwriting. Feminine, with curls at the end of each word. The stamp was a rainbow-filled heart.

Curious, I opened the letter, and read it.

I found myself sitting on my unmade bed, letter clenched in my hands. No. No, it couldn't be. But…the facts… I found myself looking in the mirror, with no memory of having stood, or walking to the lavatory. There I was. Small, with dark curly hair and dark brown eyes. Proof positive, considering my genetics class last semester. It was the only answer.

I found myself storming back to my room, where I fetched out the phone and dialed a familiar number.

Mother, Annie, answered, breathless and sounding amused. "Camden residence! Annie talking. How can I help you?"

I could just see my moth- Annie's fragile smile, her spun blonde curls I thought were a light version of my hair. "Is it true?" I asked.

"Ruth! Who told? I told Lucy not to tell, but she did, didn't she?"

"What?" I asked, startled. "Lucy knows!"

Annie laughed. "Of course! She's helping make the cake."

Cake. Right. Last of my worries. "I don't mean that, mother," I said, making the last word pointed. "I mean something more important that happened 21 years ago, give or take."

Silence. A scraping noise, as if she pulled over a chair. "I can explain," she began.

"Why?" I asked.

"Why are you asking now?" she returned, trying to sound fierce and failing.

"Someone wrote to me," I said.

The fierce voice faded back to weakness. "Oh." Then, "Are you still coming home?"

"You better believe I am, mother. And I expect you and father to have a good explanation to why my whole life has been a lie."

"It hasn't," she began, but I hung up on her. Turning off the phone, I jammed it back in my purse and got back to packing. Best to not think now. Best to just work. Best to keep it at bay, or the whole world would fall apart on me like a mirror shattering into a million shards.


	2. Chapter 2

The Letter

Dear Ruthie:

What a lovely name. I wonder how you are, Ruthie Camden. I wonder how you were raised. Was it with love? Did your father spoil you? Did your mother teach you the mysteries of womanhood? Do you have brothers and sisters, and did you grow up knowing them as friends? Did they raise you with a faith, or leave you to seek your own?

I ask these questions not to be intrusive, but because I need to know. I have a right to know. Ruthie, I do know who our parents and siblings are. I finally do. I know where you were raised, after 20 years of searching. Because I had a right to know.

Ruthie, did you ever wonder? Why your parents are blonde with blue eyes, with pale skin, while you have dark hair and eyes and darker skin? Did you ever learn that blue is a recessive gene, and that blue eyed parents can only have blue eyed children?

I ask you this because you have been told a lie all of your life, and at last I can tell you the truth.

Eric Camden did not sire you. Annie Camden did not give birth to you.

I am your birthmother.

I was the one denied knowing you. Denied breastfeeding you, raising you, seeing your first steps, trimming your hair to keep a lock, taking you to school for your first day, taking you to synagogue to learn the lessons of your true faith.

I wanted to hate them, Ruthie, when I finally found who took my child. I did. And then I thought, why should I pay attention to them? What is important is you. Now you are a grown woman, Ruthie, and you have the right to know who you are. No-one can stop you from seeking me, if you wish.

And I hope that you do, Ruthie. For I miss you terribly still, and I would like to have you back in my life. To give to you what is yours.

I live in New York city, the city of life and fire. Enclosed find my address, my phone numbers, my email address. I hope you will contact me soon.

I hope this letter finds you well, following your dreams, finding joy wherever you go.

Love

Your long lost mother, Naomi Myers.


	3. Chapter 3

author note - thanks for all the great reviews! Here's two chapters to make up for the wait. Oh, and of course I own none of the 7th Heaven characters, but Xavier and Ruthie's friends are mine, as is Naomi. :)

Xavier

A couple of hours later, a knock came at the door, and my Goth boy came waling in. Xavier is tall, pale-skinned, dark-haired, and always wears black or white with the rare touch of red. When my parents first met him, he had spiked hair, and they decided he was normal enough. After all, Simon, my next-older brother, has spiked blond hair and an earring, and he never changed from his usual, semi-nerdy, money-genius Christian self. How much more radical is a leather vest with spikes, right? When he had gotten wilder, growing his hair out, wearing eyeliner, I'd worried how my parents would react.

Now, as I hugged my leather and denim clad boyfriend, with his waist-long hair, three earrings per ear, nose stud, lip ring, back and upper arm tattoos, kohl-lined eyes and knee boots with spikes, chains and straps, I couldn't wait for them to see how far I'd gone from the sassy horse-loving young girl they still thought of me as being.

"Any time for me to get my nose pierced?" I asked Xavier after a long kiss.

"Love, as much as I like the sound of that, I have to ask why you want to know?" he said in his sharp London accent.

"Parents," I grumbled. "Family thing."

"Ruthie, look at me. In the two years we've known each other, you have never been like this. Something is bothering you, and I won't rest til I know what it is." He sat on my bed with me, and held my hands.

I started crying.

"Oh, love, what is it?" he fretted, chafing my hands.

"Everything I know was a lie. I don't know my real parent. I was taken from my real mother as a baby. Why? Why did they do it, and so badly? They said I was theirs. Not adopted, just theirs. A brown eyed baby born to blue eyed parents."

"So, how did you find out…" I shoved the letter at him, and he took it and read. "Ah. And, might I ask, what are you going to do with this?"

"I hadn't gotten past confronting my parents," I muttered.

"So do you want to meet this woman, your birthmother?"

Funny how you can, all of a sudden, want and need someone with a passion, when hours before, you didn't know they existed, let alone were missing from your life. "She gave birth to me!" I cried out. "She says she misses me still. She says she wants to give me back my real life. And now I have all these questions. Do I look like her? Who is my birthfather? Do I have any brothers or sisters? How old are they, and what are they like? What are my grandparents like? And I also wonder, what would it have been like to be raised by them? In a real city, even? New York! Would I have been happier with them, or was it good that Mo- Annie and Eric took me. Why did they take me? For greed? For love? To save me? I have all these questions and no answers!"

"So confront the parents. Get their side. Then go to New York with me and see what your birthmother has to say. Between the two sides, you should find the truth." He kissed me lightly. "And know that I will always be at your side."

I kissed him back. "Xavier, you are a wonder," I sighed, leaning into him.

"Yeah, I know. Can't help myself."

I looked up at him, saw his roguish grin, and had to start a tickle fight. Keep down the ego, you know? Soon we were laughing and rolling all over the bed, and tickles turned to touches. Deeper kisses. Until I had to sit up and reassemble my outfit, breathless.

"Sorry," Xavier said softly.

"No," I said, feeling a bit odd. "I'm sorry. I'm the one pulling the brakes when I don't want to. It's the way I was raised. A ring, or nothing."

"In a few years," he began.

I looked at him with huge eyes. "But what if I don't want to wait? What if I don't like a ring or nothing? What if I just want to try out being with you first, and see if that deepens things?"

He shook his head. "Til we figure out who you are and where you're going, love of mine, I won't be pressing for more than what we have. Last thing we need is to throw that sort of complication to the mix. Just know that I've got your back, so to speak."

I leaned to him again, smiling a little. "I know, Xavier, honey. I know. And I thank you from the bottom of my heart." He hugged me tightly, and we sat together until it was time to bring our bags down and catch the shuttle to the airport.


	4. Chapter 4

Home Again

Eric, my father, greeted Xavier and me at the airport with an astounded look. "Good to see you!" he said, trying to sound hearty when I knew he was in shock over my boyfriend's new look and especially at the new little ring in my right nostril. "Glad to have you home, princess. Your old room is ready for you, and the attic's available for you, Xavier."

"Thanks, Mr. Camden," Xavier said, a bit crisply, for my father - Eric - brings out the formalism in my boyfriend.

"Really, you can call me Eric," father said, continuing the comedy as we walked to the luggage area and, from there, the minivan. They played out their part, Xavier finally giving in to calling Eric by his name, and we were on the way home.

Or what I used to call home.

"So tell me about the others," I said. "How's Mary's baby? How are Matt and…?"

I studied my fath- Eric carefully, from his thinning blond hair to his weatherworn, earnest face. He was trying to smile and act jolly, but I could see the ghosts in his eyes. Annie had told him, then. He knew about the letter, and was pretending he didn't.

"Honesty later," I said. "We'll meet, the four of us, after lunch. For now, tell me about Mary and the others."

He relaxed a little, and started talking about Mary's baby Annie-Julie, Mary and the others with a happier tone to his voice. I found myself laughing over the latest antics of my nieces, nephews and younger brothers, and Xavier chipped in with tales of his twin brothers at that age. By the time we got home, we were all happy and smiling.

All it took was to see Annie's worried, trembling smile as she stood by the front door to tone things back down. "Hi, honey," she said, slowly coming forth as Xavier helped me down from the minivan. "Was the trip good? I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the airport, but the baby was fussy and had a bit of a temperature."

"Mary's here with the baby?" I asked a bit hopefully.

She shook her head. "They're coming in tomorrow. We just took this one in, a girl with no name, left in an abandoned apartment. Your father and I are thinking of applying for adoption." She grew quiet, as if remembering why I was angry with her, and her lips trembled a little. "So, come in, your rooms are clean and I made treats for you. Some of your childhood favorites for nostalgia." Again the look. Turning, she opened the door and went in.

Eric-father gave me a meaningful look, as if I could just hug her, forgive her and make everything right.

I just followed her in and made a hard right to the stairs. "The trip took it out of me, mother," I said softly. "I'll come back down in an hour or two."

"I've got the bags," Xavier said, taking mine from my father before he hurt himself. "Thanks, ah, Eric. Nice to see you again, Annie. Hugs all around later, then?" He bussed my mother, Annie, with a kiss, and followed me upstairs.

My old room still looked like it belonged to a teenaged girl, with fan posters of rock and movie stars, clothes everywhere, and one of the beds messy. Looked like I was sharing with a foster sister. The closet was a mess, and I had to shove the clothes over to make room for some of mine. Xavier looked around, and started grinning.

"Say one word about the boy band posters," I began.

He threw up his hands. "Maybe we can move the spare bed up to the attic?" he quipped, pretending to look around nervously for my parents. "Sorry. That would be forbidden here, wouldn't it? I'll just go unpack and meet you back here."

"Let's make it in the kitchen in an hour," I said.

"Good idea," he said, looking at the Seann William Scott poster with some trepidation before fleeing. I put my suitcase on the floor, then sat down cross-legged on the bed. Once more, I got the letter out of my purse and read it, thinking about what it meant to my life. I was still torn. Should I go and visit her? Or should I accept that I was adopted and let it go? After all, maybe mother and father had- No, Naomi indicated I was taken from her, not that she wanted to get rid of me.

I should think about this later, after the talk, I told myself sternly.

So instead of thinking, I lay down, closed my eyes, and tried Ivy's quiet mind meditation. I imagined clouds in a blue sky, sailing overhead like stately ships. I imagined a field of corn waving gently in the soft breeze. I imagined birdsong trilling softly as they soared overhead. And before I knew it, I was walking to a farmhouse in my dreams, wearing a floaty dress with my hair down to my waist, looking forward to meeting someone in the kitchen, over coffee and freshly baked strawberry pie…

"Ruth. Ruthie love."

I woke up to Xavier's handsome face, and had to smile. "Do you know that, in dream, your mother bakes a mean strawberry pie."

He laughed. "Mother? Who thinks anyplace out of London is uncivilized and depends on the housekeeper to do menial work? Your dreams have a sense of humor. Come on, I heard some people arriving a few minutes ago, a lot of cheerful voices."

Siblings were home! I hopped up, brushed out my hair and clothes, then went downstairs with Xavier close behind.

"Ruthie!" My younger brothers Sam and David came running from the living room, and I was surprised to see how tall and skinny they'd grown to be. One of them had streaked his hair white-blond, and the other had dark honey colored hair now, and both wore jeans and t-shirts with Christian rock band logos on them. "What is that?" they said, pointing to my nose ring. "Looks like Simon's influence!"

"Ha ha," said Simon, coming from the living room. His hair was spiked and short, with an electric blue streak here and there now, and he now had three earrings per ear. Baggy cargo pants, boat-like sneakers and a tight muscle shirt completed the look. I could see, from mother's tight look, that she didn't approve of this new look. "Hey, cute!" Simon said over my nose ring. "Hey," he said to Xavier.

"You look more like his brother than ours," said the honey-haired twin.

"Sam," David whispered.

"How's the family?" I asked.

He grinned. "Just fine. Rose and the twins are coming out of the hospital tomorrow, and Dad's already offered us the garage apartment while we look for a bigger place. I still can't get over the fact that I'm a dad. They're so little, Ruthie, and they look just like Rose. Perfect. In fact." He reached to his back pocket, pulled out a wallet, and found some pictures to show off. "Okay, the one in pink is Lily Anne, and the one in blue is Eric Charles. Aren't they the cutest?"

I cooed over the pictures, said how they had his eyes, then let the twins drag me off to their room so I could see how they'd redecorated. Sports and Christian stuff. Not a single girlie poster. Each had his own Bible on his night table, and a cross over the bed. They informed me that Jesus was cool, the devil was a dweeb and that they were saved. That and the sports talk drove me back out of the room. If this was their latest teen phase, I hoped it passed soon. They were like twin preachers with twin causes.

By the time I got back downstairs, Lucy and Kevin had arrived with their children Savannah and Marco, and I greeted them with eager hugs. Lucy looked so happy now, radiant and self-confident. Seeing my nose ring, she simply laughed, touched the tip of my nose, and said, "Following Simon's footsteps? Well, as long as it makes you happy. I must say it makes you look pixie-like."

The guys went out then to start the barbecue, and mother led the womenfolk to the kitchen to start our work. A sullen teen girl was there already, watching a chirruping happy baby in a high chair. Seeing my nose ring, she started grinning. "Hi! I'm Shannon, and this is Angie."

"Hi. Obviously, I'm Ruthie, the one who is in your room for a while. Sorry about the rearrange in the closet."

She waved a hand. "Not a problem. It was just a surprise. I was just getting used to having a room of my own, and suddenly there was someone new moving stuff around."

Mother seemed to relax a bit on seeing us talking in a friendly manner, so we kept it up, Lucy joining in as we bustled around the kitchen. I found myself falling back into the old pattern like I had no doubts of belonging, and had a great time with preparing the food and gossiping. Supper was a fun riot, and we all talked about Mary, Matt and their families, who were due to arrive the next day. Mother talked about how happy Mary was nowadays, and how glad she was that my eldest sister had found meaning in her life. "I wish she had stayed with Carlos and Charles, but at least she's taken responsibility for Annie-Julie." Father bragged about Matt's promotion and the new responsibilities that came with same. In fact, we talked well into the night, Shannon helping Lucy take the children up to bed.

Xavier met me out in the garden. "I like your family," he said, like usual.

"So do I," I said, leaning against him.

"But you need to know where you came from," he continued.

I nodded. "Yes, I still do. Tomorrow."

We sat there silently, listening to the crickets singing, until we were too sleepy to stay up anymore. A quick kiss led to three more, and we went inside and up the stairs. Another kiss at the head of the stairs, and I watched him going up to the attic room. Shannon was asleep already, so I changed quietly, went to brush my teeth, and snuck back to my bed. Despite the coming chaos, and the confrontation, I felt peaceful. No matter the complications, this house always would be home to me, and my family – shared blood or no – would be my beloved family.

Just knowing that let me slide to sleep with a smile.


	5. Chapter 5

The Meeting

The morning came with whoops and hollers, and I looked out to see Matt and his family greeting Mary and her baby out front. Mary looked amazingly well, in a pretty peach halter dress, her hair cut short, spiky and bleached almost white; her baby was dressed in bright red overalls and a purple t-shirt. Matt was tall, lean and healthy looking, with a wide grin as he hugged our sister and kissed the baby's cheek. Simon went running out to greet them, followed by the twins, and I had to race to join the crowd.

"Oh my god," Mary cried out, laughing to see my nose ring. "Ruthie!"

"Hey, it looks cool and I'm 21. Why not? It's not like I've gotten to Simon's style."

Simon rolled his eyes but kept quiet, knowing his look always would get teasing. I hugged my eldest sister, cooed over my niece, then went to hug Matt, Sarah, and their children Ben and Christine. By then, Lucy, Kevin, Savannah and Marco has come out, with mother, father and a curious Xavier. Seeing Mary's look, Simon grinned and stepped back.

"Xavier, your look has improved," Mary said, coming to hug him. "You still hanging around my little sister?" she added with a wink.

He nodded. "Sorry, I only date one sister in a family, and she's it." He came to hug and give me a quick kiss, then turned to stand by my side.

"You being good to her?" Matt began, putting on a stern look.

"And not because I know I'd get in trouble with you guys if I wasn't," Xavier said, to all the guys. "Because she's my girl and deserved the best."

"Right answer," Kevin and Simon chorused.

"Come in, come in," Mother said. "Lucy, Shannon and I just made breakfast enough for everyone, buffet style."

So went the morning, in fun and games. It was when the babies and little ones went down to nap that I finally got the change to draw aside my (adoptive) parents, feeling more than a little nervous, to lead them to father's office for that talk. Xavier went with me, insisting he would not leave me alone at my time of need, and I had to wince inside to see the whispering begin.

My siblings probably though this was about an upcoming marriage.

Father's office was now his and Lucy's, and much tidier that I ever remembered it, with a sofa to sit at as well as two desks, chairs and a new fireplace. I sat with Xavier at the sofa, and my parents took the chairs and sat them before us.

"First things first," father Eric said. "May we please see the letter you received?"

"Do you promise not to tear it up?" came out of my mouth,.

Annie-mother flushed. "We are trying to handle this in a mature, reasonable manner. If…"

"I'm sorry," I quickly said. "I…I was just afraid, if there was any anger between you and her…"

"Her?" Mother asked.

I handed over the letter, and they read it in silence.

Mother wiped her eyes as father folded the letter and handed it back. "We didn't know she was looking for you," she said. "In fact, we didn't know she knew you were…." She choked. "It's complicated.

"Then uncomplicate it. Tell us everything," Xavier said, holding my hand a little tighter.


	6. Chapter 6

**author's note...now I seem to be doing these 2 chapters at a time! Thanks, again, for all the lovely reviews...and I will be back on the weekend with more updates!**

The Truth

"It was 1990. We were in New York for an interfaith meeting, the first vacation we'd had in years. Our parents were watching the children. We met her – Naomi's – parents at one of the talks about a possible Jewish-Christian meeting of minds, and found them to be quite interesting. He was a rabbi, and she was a housewife, so it was like we were mirrors to each other. We met for lunch after the meeting and discussed the meeting, then children, family and home as we got to know each other."

Mother laughed.

"In fact, we had such a good time, we decided to meet again for supper that evening. Miriam, the wife, insisted we come to their house to eat, have a real Jewish meal. Of course we accepted." She sighed. "And there we met Naomi."

Father took over, seeing Mother's eyes clouding. He took her hand in his, and squeezed it tightly, then spoke. "Naomi, your birth mother, was a shock to us. Here were her quiet, peaceful parents. We'd seen pictures of her brothers, who were studious and quiet looking young gentlemen, married, with their own children. And then comes in this girl, a teen, with a bright red Mohawk, too tight jeans and a t-shirt with I still don't know what on it that made her parents wince. She had a Walkman on, and it was blaring music. And there, in a baby carrier on her back…was a small baby."

"Me," I said.

"You," Father agreed. "Red-faced and screaming, waving those tiny fists of yours as if to protest the music and dancing. And our baby agreed."

Time seemed to fall still. "Your baby?"

Mother nodded. "We can explain it, in the story. Please, just let us tell it. It…" She looked down, lips trembling.

"All right," I agreed, leaning into Xavier a little more.

"Miriam and Ben looked suddenly ashamed as she came into the room, and Miriam waved to the girl weakly. The girl yanked off her earphones and snapped, 'Yeah?" like her mother was a nuisance. Miriam gestured to us, and said they had guests. Naomi looked at us, looking us up and down, and choked back a laugh. 'So it's going to be a religious meeting for supper, is it?' She took the baby off of her back, handed it to Miriam and said, 'I'll be back late. Don't wait up,' and left out the front door. Just like that."

Even years later, Father's eyes were fiery with rage, and Mother's lips tight with disgust.

"Miriam apologized deeply to us," Mother continued, "and wouldn't take our apologies for coming at a bad time. 'Naomi has had a bad attitude for years now, and the baby hasn't helped her at all. If only Jacob…' But they didn't go on with that, instead taking us to the living room to sit while Miriam finished the meal. I took the baby from her arms as Eric, your Father, held ours, and found myself asking if I could come help her in the kitchen, at least keep her company. She accepted readily, and led me to this beautiful plum colored kitchen rich with the smells of foreign foods. And we talked about children…hers and mine. She asked after my baby, and found out she was the same age as her daughter's baby. For some reason, that delighted her, and we traded baby tales as if we were both mothers of same-age babies. And a way we were, for Miriam had more to do with the raising of that baby than her daughter ever did. 'She picks the baby up when she wants to, and leaves all the work to me but for nursing. If she could pass that to me, she would,' she said bitterly."

I didn't know what to say. I felt kind of numb as the tale spun on.

"So I asked her who Jacob was, and she looked down and murmured something in Hebrew before looking up with saddened eyes. 'Naomi's husband. They married young, at 17, when they insisted they were in love and would run away if we wouldn't accept their relationship. A few months later, she had baby Mona, Rimona. All was well for a couple of months…until Jacob vanished one day. No note, no explanation, just gone. A month later, they found him. He'd been robbed and killed on his way back from work. Naomi closed herself away at that, wouldn't go to the funeral. A few weeks later, she'd cut her hair, dyed it, and was wearing this punk look she has now. She's rude, she curses, she eats all sorts of unclean foods, and she won't act like a responsible widow and mother. I…think she's been seeing other men. I don't know. She locks her room now, and the baby sleeps in one of the guest rooms.' I looked at this broken woman, this sad mother, and felt pity."

"After supper," Father said as Mother broke off to wipe her eyes and compose herself, "The Myers drew us aside to talk, to invite us to stay at their place for the rest of our trip. When we made excuses, they wouldn't hear of them. Miriam talked us into it. 'As parents of seven young ones, you need to save all the money you can. We have more than enough room, and, quite honestly, we'd love the company. We can compare notes after classes, we can trade recipes, and, goodness knows, a baby can use extra hands for caretaking…'

Mother nodded. "I looked at the baby in her arms, the baby that was even then reaching for me to hold her again, and I couldn't resist. That baby, as well as her grandparents, had won my heart."

"I couldn't turn down this change to get to know these people," Father agreed. "We could teach each other so much about our faiths, by example and by talk. And I was just as charmed by baby Mona as Annie was. So we accepted, and I went to pack and check us out while Annie helped get the other guest room ready."

"We had a great time with Miriam and Ben," Mother began. "But in that time, we found out just how terrible Naomi was as a mother. I woke up the first night to hear Mona howling, and ran to see her lying in a filthy diaper. Miriam was close behind me, but not one peep did we hear from Naomi. I saw Naomi striking the baby another time, just for reaching up to pull at her earlobe. When I tried to talk to her, she sneered, said something I couldn't hear, and shoved the baby at me before leaving."

"Suffice it to say, we didn't get to know Naomi but as a bratty, willful and neglectful mother," Father said, lips tight.

Mother looked up then with the most haunted eyes I'd ever seen on her, and she told the next part in a raspy whisper that chilled me down the spine.

"It was night, late in the evening. I'd come to change the babies, to sing to them if they were fussy, just like usual. I still don't know why it happened. There she was in the crib, my Ruth, a still, quiet shape, not moving. I touched her, and she held so little warmth. I found myself screaming. Miriam ran into the room, saw my baby, and ran to hold me. Then she looked again, with a resolute expression, and said, 'No, no, Annie. It's okay. That's not your baby. That's Mona.' I said Ruth was wearing the yellow jumper, and Mona the pink, and she said she'd had to change them both, at different times at night, and hadn't seen the difference in colors. But she insisted the yellow jumper on the dead baby was Mona's favorite jumper, bought by her great-grandparents Schwartz."

Mother looked at me with those haunted eyes.

"Ruthie, at that young, you two could have been mistaken for twins. You both had blue eyes and fine, curly blonde-brown hair. So when she said it was he daughter's child that died…I believed her. I consoled her, then, and held the baby I thought was mine. And the next day, after the interfaith meeting had concluded, we went home with you, promising to write to the Myers, to talk again. But we never did; after a week, when I called, the number was wrong. The cards we sent to them came back Addressee Unknown. And it wasn't until we saw your eyes turning brown that we realized what had happened."

"And you didn't try to find them again?" I asked.

"Of course we did! We tried for three years, until we received a letter from the Myers. It told us to leave them alone, that they didn't know us and they didn't want any more mail from strangers… So we let it drop. By then, you were such a part of the family, we didn't want to try and send you back to a family that quite clearly didn't want you. You were Ruthie, our darling baby girl, and, as far as everyone knew, you always were."

I didn't know what to say. To hear them tell it, they'd rescued me from a terrible mother, and taken me from grandparents, who, once rid of me, didn't want me back. I'd grown up in a loving house, with six and then eight brothers and sisters, and a dog. I didn't want for anything…

"So, if she was such a bad mother…why does she want to talk to me? Why was she looking for me for 20 years? How did she know I was missing from her life?"

Father shrugged. "I don't know. As I said, they cut contact from us. Perhaps losing the baby did something to Naomi. Maybe she recognized the baby wasn't hers, and they shut her up. I have no idea. All I know is what I told you."

"So, has it changed things between us?" Mother asked weakly.

I looked at her, and, for the first time ever, realized why her smile always seemed so fragile. She had the ghost of a lost child behind her, and the knowledge that I, her youngest daughter, was actually the daughter of someone else. Perhaps she had fears, for all of these years, of Naomi coming to take me back. I went to her, put my arms around her, and said, "You are my mother. You may not have given birth to me, but you raised me with as much love as if you had given birth to me. I came here angry that you hid this from me, but now I can understand why you did it. I love you, Mother, and I always will."

She smiled weakly, then burst into happy tears. I held her tightly, as Father came to hold her from behind, and found Xavier behind me as well.

"And now what?" Father asked a little while later, once we'd all composed ourselves.

I looked away, not knowing how to put it, then looked back. "I have to go to her. I have to let her know she was right. I have to help her heal."

"I understand," Mother said, and sounded like she meant that. "If I'd lost a child for that long, then found she was alive, I'd want her to come to meet me."

"Will you tell the others?" Father asked.

"I don't think so," I said, after thought. "I mean, I can't see a reason why I should. In the ways of the heart, I am their sister. Why change that now?"

"What if you come to have a relationship with Naomi?" he pressed.

"If that happens, then I suppose I would have to tell the others. But not until then. It would be too much for now. I don't know her. I have her side, and your side, but since they clash so, I need to put them together to understand the tale. I'm sorry," I said at Mother's startled look. "I didn't mean to imply you didn't tell the truth. I know you did. I just need to hear her side of it. Why she was such a bad mother. Why her parents did what they did. Why they kept us apart. It doesn't make sense, and won't until I hear her side of things."

My parents nodded, a bit reluctantly. "I understand. So, when are you going?"

"In a week. I want some serious time with my real family before I meet her."

That helped, and we left the office laughing and smiling.

"So!" my siblings all asked, waiting in the entry hall.

"We can't hear a thing through that door," David said with a grin.

"No, we aren't getting married yet," I said, rolling my eyes.

"We were discussing religious matters," Father said, which was technically true considering how the story had begun.

"Oh," Mary said, turning and leaving.

The crowd broke up, leaving me with Xavier and my parents. I hugged them both, then pled the need for a nap before retreating to my room. Luckily, Shannon was out with friends and I had the room to myself.


	7. Chapter 7

Preparing

In that week, I must have reread the letter 10 times, once on waking and once before going to bed. She said I was taken. My parents said her parents gave them to me. Did they lie to her and say they kidnapped me? I couldn't believe Eric and Annie could have willfully kidnapped me. They just didn't have that in them.

Shannon finally busted me, and pulled the letter from my hands. "She may be your birthmother, but these people have shown you more love than she ever has. Think of it this way. Unless she thought you were dead – and clearly, she knew you weren't, it would not be that hard to find you. She knew your parents' name and where they lived. Think about that." She held the letter away from me. "Put this away until you do meet her. Don't let it spoil your time with us, or taint the way you see your parents. I would be honored to be raised in this family for the rest of my childhood." And off she marched.

She was right. I tucked the letter in one of my to-read books and left the room to be social. Maybe help out in the kitchen…or see my brother Simon's twins and spoil them a little. Ever since Lily Anne and Eric Charles had come home, they'd had nothing but spoiling. Rose, their tired mama, said she was being spoiled, too, what with all the diaper, cleaning and comforting help she was getting. Only Mother was exempted from the diaper changing, as she had Angie to care for, and enough experience with the rest of us, and she even snuck in some changes when no one was looking. Seeing her roguish grin when she got away with it made us all laugh. "You can try and keep the grandma away, but she ain't staying away," she quipped.

"Ain't is not a word, Mama!" we children piped out, to make her laugh.

Mary went with Xavier and me when we went to get plane tickets to New York, sleepy baby Annie-Julie on a Snuggli against her chest, and had a great time flirting with the travel agent between wanders around the store to check out the brochures. "Maybe I should go on vacation," Mary mused idly, "save up some money and just go someplace I've never been."

"Is there someplace you've never been, restless one?" I teased.

She made a face at me. "Sure, I've traveled the world in 6 years. It just looked like I haven't been anyplace much but the US." Leaving out Carlos' homeland, I noted. So that was still something she wasn't admitting to, her past marriage. I wondered why. "Maybe Europe," she said, in that slow, thoughtful voice of hers that I used to envy growing up. "Yeah. The Riviera, baby. Win big time, treat my family to the things they deserve…"

While she was dreaming about that, a brochure in hand, I turned to Xavier. "Of course, now that I have the tickets, I'll have to call her and tell her I'm coming."

"We," he said quickly.

I tucked my hand into his and smiled. "We. Suppose she's not okay with us together? Suppose she expects me to date only Jewish guys? She made a deal about my not learning the Jewish religion or going to synagogue. Will she make us get different hotel rooms because we're not married? Or will she insist we stay at her house or wherever she is?" Looking at his amused look, I let out a sigh. "Suppose I say how nice you are to not tease me now?"

He grinned, and gave me a kiss. "Suppose I don't blame you for being nervous, and that's why I'm going to be your support? Think the ticket-getting is making it realer….imagine how much more boarding the plane, and especially exiting the plane in New York will be?"

"Oh," I said weakly.

The travel agent gave us our tickets, and we paid and left, towing a reluctant Mary and her dozen brochures behind us. All the way back, I distracted myself by helping her come up with travel plans for the future. It was much more fun than worrying.

The day before we took off, my parents took Xavier and me out to dinner and conversation. Lucy quipped that she still thought we were talking marriage, so Father made sure to go and get a Bible from their office. Lucy grinned, nodded, and left with a wink. "Have fun," Mary said, passing by to the kitchen, also winking. Simon and Kevin looked up from their game, waved, and got back to work decimating each other's characters while a baby slept nearby and Shannon cheered them on.

At the restaurant, we shared a couple of pizzas and talked about anything that came to mind, from class schedules to fostering challenges to quizzes and baking. It was kind of fun. I was getting to know my parents as, well, people, not just as Mom and Dad. And they were getting to know the witty poet behind Xavier's tough façade, and about my growing passion for arts and psychology, as well as literature. I told them that seeing the changes in my family, as well as in the world, was what had driven me to a degree in journalism.

"I want to be the one delivering the news," I said. "And not just the tragedies, but the triumphs as well. You look at the news nowadays, and it seems like nothing good ever happens. Hurricanes blow, people die in tragic accidents, war breaks out. True, we need to know about these things, but the human mind can't deal with just the sadness. We lose hope, we lose the ability to dream, I think, without knowing there are good things happening out there. Why can't we report on people being fed by the charity and good will of others? Why can't we read about rescues of hostages in distant lands? Why can't we read how many houses Habitat for Humanity builds a day for people who have no homes before then?"

Mother and Father beamed proudly at me.

But I wasn't done. "I want you to know that, no matter what happens with Naomi, I will always be thankful for the way you raised me. You helped me see the light in the dark times, the beauty that the world will always have, the fact that, yes, humanity can be kind as well as cruel. You let me grow up with my dreams and hopes intact, let me think I could be whatever I wanted to be. You also taught me to be responsible for my actions, that, when I messed up, goofed off, or tried to quit, I was the one who would face the consequences. I learned to chase my dreams, to never give up. And I hope that, because of your raising of me, I will be able to make at least one person's life as wonderful as you made mine."

Mother smiled behind watery eyes, and Father beamed. We all hugged, the four of us, and I knew then, that, no matter what happened, I'd always have at least two parents who loved me dearly.

As well as one man who would be at least my best friend, I added, noting Xavier's wide grin. I took another look at him, and began wondering…was marriage a possibility between us, after all? And sooner than later?


	8. Chapter 8

New York City Mama

The day after supper out with my parents, I sent a next-day delivery letter to Naomi, telling her I was coming in a few days, what my flight number was and when I'd be there. I said I was coming with a friend, and staying for a week. Then I went back home and spent some serious time with my family so I didn't have to think about the upcoming trip.

Xavier was right. Being at the airport did make it more real. I found myself silent, nervous and unable to sit still as we waited to board the plane. I think I walked the entire airport during the wait, Xavier following behind with a concerned look in his eyes. But he didn't say anything, and that helped the most.

The plane trip was almost as bad. At least we had a movie to watch, some inane comedy that had me laughing nonetheless. I ate both my and Xavier's bags of pretzels without thinking about it, and drank too much Coke. Pepsi. Something caffeinated. Then it was time to land, and I clung to the armrests with claw-like fingers.

I knew right away which woman at the airport was Naomi. She looked just like me. Curly brown hair, hers to her waist. My brown eyes. Her skin was a bit darker, and her mouth poutier, but I saw no other difference. She wore a lovely dress, gauzy and a pale rose with embroidered flowers over it, and sandals that laced up to her knees.

On seeing me, her eyes grew wide, and a nervous smile washed over her face. "Ruth," she called out in a lovely, fluty voice.

Before I knew it, I was in the next room, in my birthmother's arms.

"I can't believe it," she said as we boarded the cab, my luggage in the trunk. I sat in the middle, between Xavier and my birthmother, and kept looking between the two with a wide grin. All my fear had gone away. This woman was so familiar, and it was so right to be with her again. "Look how grown up you are! I wish I had looked this good at 21."

I laughed. "I'm sure you were, Naomi-mom. Now I know what I will look like at your age, and I am quite happy. But enough on me. Tell me about you. Tell me what you do. Tell me if I have family. Where do you live? What's your favorite place in the city? What do you like to eat? Tell me if I'm going too fast."

"Too fast? You ask questions like I did when I was a kid! I can keep up just fine! Maybe we should be worrying about Xavier, though."

"Don't," he said, laughter in his voice. "Seeing Ruth this happy makes me happy. This reminds me why I fell…" He paused.

"Fell in love with her? Don't worry. I'm not so orthodox that I think Ruthie can only fall in love with Jewish men. My life has taught me to have an open mind, when it comes to love." She blushed. "As you will see when we come to my home…where I hope you will have an open mind…"

"My heart-sister Mary is an ex-con and divorced mother, and my other heart-sister is a minister in training. I am pretty open to life's varieties."

"Good. Good." She breathed out, as if in relief, and I wondered what she was like, who she loved that made her worry that I'd not approve. Was he a different color? Before I could mention that Mary's ex was Latino, she continued, "As for me, well, I'm an artist who owns her own gallery. I look for new talent and help bring it out into the open. You'll see my gallery on this trip, I hope? I call it New Blue Skies. You do have family, as I married a while after…" She paused, then continued, "None of them could replace you, know that, darling Ruthie, but I couldn't hold my life, and I wanted you to have brothers and sisters. You have a younger sister and brother. Rebecca's an actress in training, and Alex is still torn between law and being a firefighter. I have pictures."

"Well, let's see them!" Xavier and I chorused.

"Or, since we just got to my place, maybe you can meet them!" she said, as the taxi pulled to the curb. Brownstone row houses stood before us, and one had a rainbow flag before it and flowerpots in every window. The driver got my bags out, took the far and tip, and left with a cheery wave. Turning, she led us to the house with the rainbow flag.

Wait. Did this mean my mother loved women?

Now I was really intrigued. If she loved women, how did she have two more kids? Xavier grabbed the bags before I could move, and gestured with his chin for me to go forth, follow Naomi-mom. So I did.

The lobby was bright, white with blue and yellow highlights. Windchimes danced on either side of the window above the door, and a table on one side of the lobby held colorful glass bowls filled with stones, glass beads and shells. A staircase ran up to a second, then a third, level, with balconies looking down to the lobby. "Freddi redid this place top to bottom. She's an amazing architect, and it's only because of her that we can afford to live here."

"It's pretty," I said, looking through a door to a white Art Deco living room with aubergine and silver highlights . I liked the giant fireplace and cute little silver drinks trolley best, I think, or maybe the enormous white carpet on the black slate floor.

The rest of the house was just as nice, and Xavier and I found she wanted us to stay in the attic guest rooms. "Save money, get out of the hotel," she insisted. "I know your parents, and they aren't rich, are they? Nor are you two."

"My parents do well," Xavier said, in a quiet tone. I realized, with a start, that in all the time we'd dated…I'd never asked about his parents, nor seen pictures of them, and he had never volunteered any information about them. I vowed to ask that night. "But I think I would, as well as Ruthie, love to stay here."

"Oh, definitely," I said. "I only picked a hotel because I don't know our meeting would be like this. So…right."

She was beaming as strongly as I was. "I know! I was expecting you to be nervous, or to immediately fire at me why I didn't trey harder to find you. That I should have remembered your parent's names…"

"Can I ask why you didn't?" I said softly.

"I am sure they told you the story of how they got you," she said. I nodded. "Good. So you know what kind of attitude I had back then. Sullen. Or, rather, depressed. My beloved had died, before we could be married. I was of the mind to not live, and, sad to say, I took it out on everyone who loved me. Including you, a helpless baby. I should have known better. But I didn't."

The door opened and slammed, and a familiar voice cried out, "Mama! I'm home! Has the prodigal daughter arrived yet, or do I have time to make myself up? Dance practice was a beast! Simply horrid!"

"She's here, Rebecca," Naomi called back. "Where's Alex?"

"Picking up Chinese with Freddi and Anton. Should be home in 10."

Imagine my surprise to see the flashy golden haired Rebecca from my school dashing into the living room. She stopped cold on seeing us, her eyes growing wide, and she dropped that familiar pink duffel bag and began to laugh. "This is unreal!" she cried out. "The goodie-goodie Christian right winger is my sister!"

I felt the usual twinge of annoyance at seeing her, but it was followed by curiosity and a desire to make peace, to make Naomi happy. "Come on, Rebecca, that was only the first two years of college. Ivy and Cindy trained me out of those knee-jerk ways. I'm far more open-minded than I used to be, and, apparently, I'm Jewish by blood."

She paused, looked at me carefully, then nodded. "Okay, because preaching here would be so not cool."

"I promise, I have no calling to be a preacher."

She grinned. "Good. I'll be back. Shower. Dance." Grimacing, she took up her bag and dashed up the stairs.

"She's just like I was at her age," Naomi said. "We take after the artiste stereotype as if it's a guideline of behavior." She laughed.

I placed chin in hand. "Hmm. And I'm a literature/journalism major? Does that make me a hard-hitting artiste?"

That had everyone laughing.

I couldn't stop smiling, laughing. This was so wonderful. I had not one family, but two, and I was going to meet the rest of them. My brother, my sister, my mother's lover, and the mysterious Anton. To think I'd been afraid in the airport, on the plane. How silly I had been…

And then the door opened again, and I was leaning forward, eager to meet the rest of my family.


	9. Chapter 9

author note...sorry about being so slow in the updates. Holidays start early around here as my birthday's a week before Thanksgiving! Will try to get more chapters in sooner...

9 The Whole Family

First came a tall, slender man with very strong shoulders, bearing an array of bags that smelled like the best Chinese food I could ever imagine. Following him was a small woman with a halo of amber-brown curls, and a teenaged guy with blue-black hair and the palest skin I'd ever seen on a person. "Time to eat, everyone! In the kitchen, pronto!" sang out the man.

"Hi!" the teen guy said, peeking in and seeing Xavier and me with his mother. His eyes grew wide as he took in the resemblance between her and me and he stopped cold. "Guys! She's here! Right now! And you won't believe…"

"We'll believe in the kitchen," the man said.

I looked at Naomi-mom, and she laughed, throwing up her hands. "That's Anton for you. Come rain or shine, we must obey the rules of civilized society. Come on, dear. You can meet the rest of the family in the kitchen."

"Amazed it's not the dining room," the teen guy said.

"Alex," Naomi chided playfully, coming to give him a hug. "You know Chinese take-out is an excuse to relax a little." In a whisper, "Don't give Anton ideas."

"I know what you said to him!" Anton called out.

"I know!" Naomi called back, giggling.

We entered the kitchen, which was in sparkling aquas, blues and greens, and found Anton laying out place settings as Freddi and an older woman were putting the food into nicer serving bowls. Rebecca had come back down, hair tied back in a ponytail, and was turning the napkins into cloth swans.

Anton looked up when I stepped in, and studied us silently, looking from Naomi to me and back. "Amazing," he finally murmured.

"Welcome to the family, kiddo!" Freddi said. "This is my mama, Rachel."

"Good to have Freddi, Naomi and Anton's babies all home," the older woman said.

Wait. What? I looked at Naomi.

"Well, yeah…Anton is Rebecca and Alex's birthfather," she said.

"And mine?" I found coming out of my mouth.

"Remember, honey? I said I lost him, my husband. I met Anton after that, and he helped me heal from my double loss…as best as I could with you out there where I couldn't begin to find you…"

Now I was confused. Echoes of "She really could have found you if you tried," were chased by, "How exactly are these three involved? Is he a sperm donor or a third lover? If so, how does that work?" followed by, "This doesn't make sense!"

"Right, silly me," is what I let come out of my mouth. "Long trip. I must be hungry. Can I help?"

I buried myself in work so I wouldn't have to think about things.


	10. Chapter 10

10What Truth

Xavier found me in the back yard after supper, sitting at a little wrought iron table looking at the wild garden around me. As far as I cold tell, there as no grass here. Just a brick path from the back door, this small sitting area, and the garden. I heard the trickle of water in the distance, but didn't see a way to get to it. Once in a while, I heard the who-whoo of an owl, and found myself wondering if this was the city after all, or if I had fallen into a dream and none of this was real.

"Love?" Xavier asked, sitting next to me.

"Am I dreaming this? It makes as much sense as a dream. I thought it would all be easy. I would come here, meet my birth mother, find the truth, make peace with her, become friends, then settle on visits. You know, on holidays, her birthday, whatever. But she's got a whole family, and it feels like they all expect me to join in like I was never away."

The ghost of that evening haunted me. Memories of the food, of talking about everyone's days, of hearing "Grandma" Rachel promising to make me a scarf, mittens and a hat for winter in the city, Rebecca telling me about her dance class having an opening, and wanting to see if I could dance like a professional, of Alex whispering to me of his rock collection and watching the stars… And the parents, Naomi, Anton and Freddi, watching over us proudly. Finally I'd had to go outside, get a breath of fresh air, escape all that sudden togetherness.

"A bit overwhelming, they are," Xavier agreed, as if reading my mind.

I moved closer so I could lean my head against his chest. "I wonder why I agreed to stay for a week. Oh, I didn't know it would be so…intense."

"We don't have to stay. I bet there are more affordable hotels."

I looked up at him. "But she's my mother. Shouldn't I want to be close to her?"

"You mean, like an immediate love of her? Ruth, my love…if you had thought you were an orphan, with no one who loved you, and then found you had a mother…or if you were raised by an abusive couple…then yes, I can see it. But Eric and Annie raised you with love and devotion, and you have siblings who love and adore you. Now you have a whole other family coming at you full speed. I'm overwhelmed, and I'm just the boyfriend!" He hugged me, and put on an accent so bad I couldn't tell what it was supposed to be. "You want I should tell them to back off, eh?"

I laughed. "Yeah, yeah, sure. You're my hit-honey, my guardian angel."

"Hm. A punk-Goth hit-honey guardian angel. You know, I like that idea."

"Tomorrow, let's take most of the day for tourism," I said, inspired. "We'll eat breakfast with the family, then go out on the town. Come back for supper, spend some quality time, and I can talk to Naomi about her story maybe three days later. More tourism, more bonding, but in equal measure. And, my hit-honey angel…could you help me keep this plan? I have a feeling I'll be inclined to go with the flow…"

"And I am here to keep you from being dragged in by the undertow," he said.

I groaned. "You have been around Persnickety far, far too long. No rhyming. Ever."

"Okay, all right, no rhyming, just protecting."

"And loving," I said, looking up for a kiss.

"And loving," he agreed, bending down with that kiss.

They were surprised when we came down the next morning and announced our plans, but a look from Anton to Naomi had her shrugging and smiling. "I can introduce you to my art friends tomorrow, I'm sure. Show you the best deli in the city. Introduce you to our rabbi, get you started on learning what your true religion is like…"

I was about to cave at that, but Xavier simply grinned, said, "You're the best, Naomi. See ya!" and dragged me from the townhouse.

"Thanks," I said, hugging him.

And we proceeded to have a great time playing tourist. We found the Hard Rock Café, saw some museums, walked around the safer parts of Central Park. We even took one of those carriage rides. For supper, we had huge pretzels and hot dogs.

"This was the best day ever," I told Xavier as we walked back to Naomi's home.

"I must admit, I like the big city. I could get used to it."

"Me, too," I agreed.

We went up the stairs, opened the door, and walked into a tornado.

CRASH!

A vase went flying past us, to shatter against the wall.

"Mama, no!"

An antique clock went flying to join the vase, and splintered.

"Love, they're home, they're safe!" someone else cried.

Naomi came raging into the hall. Her hair was a chaotic mess, and her eyes were fiery. "Where have the two of you been! I have spent all day preparing supper, and you didn't even come back to enjoy it! What? What did you eat! Did you even eat?"

"Hot dogs and pretzels," I said.

"Street food? You ate street food?" Her voice rose hysterically. "Do you know how dirty those places are? And a hot dog is not clean food for us! It's forbidden!"

"Naomi-mom, I'm not Jewish!" I began, startled. "I was raised Christian."

"Falsely! Falsely! You are Jewish by blood, and that's all that counts!" She shook her head. "But that's not the point. The point is, I had plans for you today, and you blew them all off…to go eat bad food and hang out with your boyfriend all day. Was not the point of this trip to bond with me? Your long lost mother? To know your heritage?"

"Now hold on there," Xavier began.

"Shut up!" she screamed.

"Mama," Rebecca tried, coming forth to touch Naomi's arm.

"No. No! I will not be treated like I'm being hysterical! I have a right to know why she chose to leave me again!"

"But I didn't leave," I said, as I felt myself wanting to cry. "Look, here I am. I just needed a day to breathe. I'm not used to this family…I 'm new here…"

"Their fault!" she screamed to the ceiling. "All theirs!"

"Stop it!" I found myself screaming back. "I don't know what's wrong with you, but you are scaring me! I just went out for the day! I'm a grown woman, and I can do what I want! If that bothers you, just tell me, and we'll leave!"

That stopped her cold. Eyes growing huge, she whispered, "No, not again. Not my baby. Oh, baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…I…I just wanted to share my life with you."

"And I want to know you, but you can't go doing this, this yelling and breaking thing, whenever I do something you don't like. I'm sorry you didn't understand that Xavier and I wanted to have a day to just us. Don't you ever want a day just with your loved ones? I was planning on doing things with you all day tomorrow."

"Oh," she said softly.

"Now, if you don't mind, I think I need to go to bed," I added.

"Of course," she said.

I went forth and hugged her, then let Xavier lead me upstairs.

"Honey?" Xavier asked minutes later, as I curled up on my bed.

"I had no idea. I mean, they gave me some warning. They did say she was a neglectful mother, prone to tempers. But what is this? What is going on in her mind? Is she…sane? If she isn't…do I have that in me, just waiting to come out?"

He knelt before me. "No, Ruthie, no. We would have seen something like that by now. You would have seen that in your childhood, in your teen years. You are never like that. You are a world of calm. You are still river, running deep." A little smile, and he kissed my forehead. "Maybe she's just one of your tributary rivers, one of the shallower ones?"

I found myself giggling. "Now, that's not nice, honey."

"I didn't mean in the empty-head way, I meant in the noisy. She runs fast and runs hard, and feels in noisy flashes. Maybe she's not okay. But maybe she's just an exaggeration of the tempestuous artist type."

"Maybe," I said skeptically.

He smoothed my hair from my face. "Let's give her tomorrow. Let's see how she acts. If she's good, then we know. If the least little thing sets her off, then we know that as well. Either way, we can adjust as needed."

I was almost reassured, but had one more worry to voice. "What if this is the norm, and the calm the exception?"

"Then you have that talk with her, you get to know her in depth…and we go home a little sooner. She becomes the mother you write to on birthdays and holidays. We visit when we get the word from the others that she's good. Honey, just because she gave birth to you, doesn't mean you owe her anything. Eric and Annie raised you. It doesn't matter why or how you got to their hands. It just matters that they will always love and support you. Naomi and this family are blood…and that may be all they are."

"Should I stop feeling guilty for not immediately wanting to stay with her?" I asked.

"Yes, please," he said.

I leaned closer to him. "Thank you, beloved."

He kissed my forehead, my chin, and my lips. "Always, love, always."

"I'm here whenever you need me, too," I said, kissing him back.

"I know. Trust me, I know."

We rested together for a while, and then he got up and left me to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**author note - at last! Updates! With two chapters to make up for my not writing in ages. And more to come as I try very very hard to be a good author and update on either Sunday or Monday.**

11Resolution

The next day, she was as calm and rational as when we met. It was like last night had never happened. Only a missing vase from the living room and clock with a broken face in the living room gave it away. Rebecca and Alex had gone off to school, the other parents had gone to work and Freddi's mother was off to market. Leaving Xavier and me with Naomi, who was quite happily talking about her artist friends and the rabbi who was also a violinist.

I didn't know what to say or do, so I went along with it. And I must admit I did have fun. Naomi's art friends were just as eccentric as my art friends at home, and I found myself trading email addresses with them so I could keep in touch with them after I left. I found I liked deli food, even kosher, and was intrigued to learn how much Christianity owed to Judaism for its heritage. Rabbi Abrams was kind of like my dad, in fact, warm and fatherly and wise. He was a great violinist, too, and I found myself begging him to play just one more song. So he did something by Paganini, and I found I did like classical music after all. It could be exciting!

When we got back to Naomi's place, the others had prepared a great, big kosher feast and set it out in the kitchen buffet style. I was the first to snag a plate and dive in!

As I was dressing for bed that evening, I was in a much more peaceful mood. Maybe Naomi-mother had had a bad moment, that was all; if that was so, I could learn to deal with it, right? I mean, I was grownup; if she started flipping out any time during this or any future visits, I could just leave, or go upstairs and lock the door.

A knock at the door.

"Come in," I said.

Naomi sailed in beaming, and came to throw her arms around me. "What a wonderful day we had, my daughter! I was so glad to see you so avidly listening to Rabbi Abrams, enjoying your soul food. You see! Coming here was just the thing you needed to do. You have finally found your roots. Isn't it wonderful? I can't wait until you move in! We can make over the attic suite for you and Xavier, and you can both start going to classes to become Jewish, so you can marry. I have s many friends in the newspaper business; we can get you the perfect job! You'll become famous fast. And then, I can't wait for the grandbabies to start coming! You will work at home with your op ed columns by then, so it will be so easy, and I will be a full-time artist by then, so I can stay home and help you raise them! Oh, art! I already have a theme thought up – fairies for girls, dragons for boys. Wait! I have drawings in my studio. You want to see them." She kissed me on the cheek, on the other cheek, then dashed away.

I sat down hard on the bed.

Now she was planning my entire life!

I couldn't deal with it!

I had to get out of here!

When she came back, though, I was very very composed. I looked over her sketches, cooed over how cute the dragons and fairies were, even suggested doing the fairies as princesses in a pink tower bedroom theme. She loved it, and was talking about embedding faux pearls and diamonds in the upper walls to catch the light as she sped back to her studio.

When she was locked in and had loud music throbbing the walls, I snuck to Xavier's room. "I can't stand it," I said, throwing myself into his arms. "Now she's planning our entire lives up to our having children! I have to get out of here!"

"You sure?" Xavier asked.

I nodded.

He breathed out a sigh of relief. "The minute I get out of Rebecca's crosshairs, the happier I'll be." At my surprised look, he added, "Guess who has been hitting on me ever since we got here? Guess who has always had a crush on me? And guess who, because her father wasn't Jewish like yours was, says it makes more sense for me to go for her while you find a nice Jewish doctor or lawyer or banker or something?" I saw he looked as frazzled as I felt. "I'm already packed," he added.

"I'll go pack right now," I whispered.

We had just made it to the kitchen and were heading to the hall when we heard a soft voice saying, "Why Ruthie, Xavier, where are you going?"

I dropped my suitcase with a clatter and yelped.

"It's okay," the woman said, and came forth to reveal herself as Rachel, Freddi's mother. "You two are leaving us?"

Immediately I felt guilty. "I just can't take the ups and downs any more, I'm sorry, but she was planning my whole life and…"

She put her arms around me. "And pretending she's suddenly this super Jewish orthodox mama to impress you, and talking babies and jobs and all that. Dearheart, she's doing this because she's nervous, and overwhelmed, and hyperactive with her moods. I'm not going to talk you out of going – in fact, it might help the both of you – but I would ask you to just take a hotel room, and come back first thing in the morning, before she even knows you are gone, so you can tell her how you feel."

I made a noise.

She laughed. "I know, but if you don't, she'll just chase you back to California and make one of her scenes there. I love the girl dearly, but sometimes I wonder about her high drama quotient. She says it's because she's an artist, but so is my Freddi and she's as calm as can be."

Curiosity kills the cat, and it kills me too. "So, how do the three adults relate, anyhow? Who loves who?"

"They each love the others," Rachel said. "It's something called polyamory. I can't explain it – for me, it's one woman and one man – but if it makes them happy, let them stay together."

Oh. Okay. Weird. "For me, it's one woman one man, but I can't judge if it's two women or two men," I said, leaning against Xavier. "I don't understand more than one love, but then again, I can't understand being attracted to the same sex."

"We'll come back around six, all right?" Xavier said, hugging me.

"Good idea. Take care, little one," she said, and went to kiss me on the forehead. "You watch over her like you have been," she said to Xavier, kissing his cheek. "Now I'm going to go out to the front porch, look at the stars and have tea, as I always do at night, so no one will wonder why the door is opening and closing and comes down to see."

I had to kiss her back for that, and we snuck out after her.

We settled in adjoining hotel rooms, said our goodnights, and left the doors between our rooms open. And, for the first time since I flew there, I had a good night's sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

12Home Again Home Again

Rachel let us in, smiling to see my well-rested look, and led us into the kitchen where she had started making breakfast. I sat at the work island and began helping, talking to her about my life in California and my plans.

Naomi was the first down, bouncing with ideas, sketchbook in hands. On seeing us, she set the book down and came to us with hugs and kisses. "You look so refreshed, darling!" she said to me. "I knew talking about the future would be so much fun, and help you feel better. You've been so quiet lately, I was worried about you. I know you have to be like," she began.

"Darling, can you get the juice from the refrigerator," Rachel said softly. "I'm afraid I was a bit too ambitious with those pancakes, and my back is giving me a twinge or two." She sat down with an audible wince.

"Oh, momsy darling, I'm sorry! Let me do the dishes and get the juice; you just sit."

She hopped up and got to work, and I found Rachel winking at me.

Couldn't I just smuggle her home with me? I wondered.

Xavier saw the look in my eyes, and tried not to laugh.

"Oh, mother," I called out, "I hate to bring the visit to a close so soon," she made a noise of protest, "I know, but I got a call last night, and they need me back in California like this evening. I have a few hours free, but then I really have to go. I wouldn't go, really I promise, but it's an emergency."

"Well, you have to come back as soon as it's over," she said, looking pouty.

Before she could erupt into tears, or throw something, I was up in a flash and hugging her. "Okay, I will come back so many times, you will be sick and tired of me, but not without leaving you my email address, my phone number and my address. You have to promise to call me once a week – Sunday evening would be best for me – and email as much as possible. I want to see how your art is doing!" I kissed her on the cheek.

She didn't know how to react. Here I was, basically saying I wouldn't go with any of her last night plans, but also saying I wanted to keep in touch with her. Should she be upset, or happy? I could see it working in her mind.

"Mother," I said sweetly. "Tell me when your birthday is, so I can visit then?"

She beamed, and all was well. We had a good breakfast, and I went with her to her art gallery while Xavier got us new plane tickets. I enjoyed looking at the art, and talking to Naomi, but I was even gladder to leave. I hugged her, kissed her, and got in the taxi.

"Home again, home again, jiggedy-jig," Xavier quipped as the taxi pulled away from the curb.

I giggled into the collar of his coat.

Mary was waiting for us at the airport, and handed baby Annie-Julie to Xavier so she could hug me. "So, how was it? What was she like?" she asked.

I stopped cold. "What are you talking about?" I asked.

She laughed. "Your birth mother, silly. What, you don't think I ferreted out the truth already? I know enough about genetics – your dark eyes made me ask questions, and this sudden trip made me dig into Dad's files. So, how was she?"

"Has the FBI thought about recruiting you? The CIA? Have you thought about a career in espionage?" I fired back.

She grinned. "Maybe once Annie-Julie's a bit grown up. Now I'm settling for digging up family mysteries. Just call me Nancy Drew!"

"Just call you scary," I joked back, even though I felt a little sick to the stomach. "So, have you…"

"Told the others?" She looked indignant. "No. That's for you to decide, not me! What do you take me for? A snitch? I may forgive you that…"

"If I tell all," I said, with a sigh. "Okay, let's go have something real to eat, and I'll spill the beans."

We had supper at TGI Friday's, for the ambience Mary said with a grin, and I told her all about how I'd learned I was adopted, and what my birth mother Naomi and her family was like. Mary wondered idly if she wasn't really Naomi's mother, having the same emotional ups and downs, and I had to tease her for that. "So, what, you switched our eyes when? And how could I be the older sister and have come of age after you?" She dismissed these questions as mere details, and asked more questions about New York.

I had a great time, and I was quite relieved that Mary knew. At least around her, I wouldn't have to keep a secret, pretend my lifer hadn't changed utterly. Sure, I knew I would have to tell the others eventually, for one thing so I could explain why this woman was calling and writing me all the time, but for now…

For now, I was back at home, and I didn't have to think about New York, Naomi, or being adopted except in the abstract.

We got back to the house, and I greeted Mom and Dad with hugs and kisses. "This is home," I said to them simply. "You are my parents. I'm staying here, I'm getting a job here, and I'm finding an apartment in town so I'm close by."

"So, was she…" Mom began.

"She's nice, sure, but she's not you," I said. "I never realized how peaceful you are, or how sweet and kind and giving. I took it for granted that all mothers were like you, and boy was I wrong. She's all ups and downs, happy and sad, angry, moody, hyper, you name it. You raised me knowing myself, knowing my world was basically a safe place. I cannot thank you enough for doing that, mommy. I can't imagine what it would have been like to be raised in such a rocky fashion."

Mom was so touched, she wiped away a tear and hugged me.

"And I am so glad to have you for a father," I said to Dad. "She found someone else to love – in fact, two someone elses – but compared to you, he was a nonentity. I don't even remember what he looked like. You raised me to be a solid, happy citizen of the world, to move past the rough spots in life, to have faith in good times and bad, to live and learn, and I thank you for that. Because of you and Mom, I am who I am."

They both hugged me.

"Now, if you don't mind, I would like to get unpacked and get some sleep." I yawned. "We can talk more over breakfast."

They hugged me and sent me off to my shared room.

Maybe this is the end of my little story, you think? Maybe I got up the next morning, brave, and told the others I was adopted? Or maybe I waited a week or so, and then told them, and they all accepted it and assured me they still loved me. Maybe I got a job, got a place, settled down, and lived a good life, marrying Xavier, calling Naomi, or writing, and once in a while visiting for a few days here and there, and all went well.

Or maybe I came downstairs the next morning, and found Naomi in the kitchen with my heart mother and heart father, chatting merrily, and maybe she said, as I came into the room, "Guess what? I've decided! Since you find California to be home, and I don't want to be separated from you, I will move here to be with you!"

Or maybe that was just a dream, and I woke up gasping in horror, and came down to find all was normal?

You will see…


End file.
